Brotherhood of Swords
by BeyondMello1317
Summary: All of the surroundings kingdoms are meeting in Narnia for some big council, and as the new ruler of Altea, Marth has to go. His father is making him be accmonpanied by Ike, a first class mercenary. Why does he keep trying to make out with Marth?


Marth sat in his bedroom at his desk, sketching out of boredom, but nothing seemed to take form. Just then, his personal runner boy came into his room and sat on the end of his large bed.

"What is it, Layne?" he asked without turning his attention from the paper.

"Looks like the leaders of the surrounding territories are getting together to have some big meeting. To renew treaties and whatnot. You've gotta be there now that you're the ruler of Altea," the young boy told him.

"Alright," he sighed, "When am I leaving?"

"First thing tomorrow morning. So, once you feel tired tonight, go straight to bed. You'll need the extra sleep," he explained.

"Yes.." Marth whispered as he continued drawing.

"Oh, and since the areas around all the castles have been flooded with monsters lately, you're gonna be accompanied by some mercenary."

"Huh, alright then.." Marth said wearily, "What's their name?"

"Didn't tell me. All I know is, it's some guy. Apparently he's really strong,"

"Okay. Thank you, Layne," Marth said as he shooed the boy out of his room.

"My pleasure, Master," Layne said as he bowed out of the room.

Marth stayed at his desk until it was time for him to go downstairs for dinner. He packed up his art utensils and slid the paper into one of his folders. He scooted out of his chair and left the room, making his way down the spiral staircase to the dining room. His father stood at the head of the table as he entered the room and didn't sit until Marth did.

"So father, are you going to this meeting tomorrow as well?" Marth asked as their dinner was served.

"No. You are now the sole leader of this kingdom. It is your responsibility," his father explained while cutting his lamb.

"I understand," Marth said.

They ate in silence until Marth piped up again.

"It'll be a year Saturday since mom died," he told his father.

"I know, son. I can't believe it's already been so long.." he father trailed off and stopped eating.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up…" Marth confessed.

"It's alright. I've been thinking about it for the past week. Oh, how I miss her…"

"As do I…" Marth whispered.

"Well, we shall do something to honor her life once you get back from Narnia," the former king said as he began to eat again.

"Yes, we will," Marth agreed.

They began to eat once again and continued making friendly conversation until the end of the meal.

"Well," Marth began, stopping to wipe his mouth, "I'm off to bed. I need to be up first thing in the morning."

"Yes. I wish you the best of luck on your journey," his father said, coming behind him and touching his shoulder.

His father walked into the vast, open living room and Marth followed behind him.

"Why must I have a mercenary accompany me?" Marth asked.

"Just in case something goes wrong, he'll be there to help," his father explained as he sat down with a drink.

"But I can use a sword. I can defend myself," Marth argued.

"Yes, but what if something were to happen to your sword? What if you were injured and unable to fight? You'll need someone to help," his father told him.

"But father--" Marth began.

"No. There is no arguing on the subject. You're being accompanied. End of story," he told Marth sternly.

"I understand," Marth said in his feminine voice.

The navy-haired prince left the room and walked back up the stairs and into his bathroom. He stared into the mirror while he brushed his teeth. After he rinsed his mouth and spit out the contents, he looked back to his reflection. He had high cheek bones, but some baby fat still occupied his face, so they were only slightly noticeable. He had large, almond shaped crystal blue eyes that were framed with dark, long, feathered lashes. He batted his eyes and bent down to rinse his face.

After he was finished, he changed out of his casual clothing and into his silk pajamas. As he slid under his covers, he took the picture of his mother off of his nightstand. He looked just like her. Even equally as feminine in his face. He smiled at the photograph and set it back where he had gotten it. Marth rolled over, away from the photo and closed his eyes to drift off to sleep.


End file.
